CHAPTER V. TROUBLE ENCOUNTERED
THE BOYS MEET AN OLD FRIEND AND ARE TAKEN HOME IN A HURRY.
IT WAS not until late the next afternoon that the wagon-train finallyreached Bridgeport, and the weak, wornout mules had at last a respitefrom straining through the mud, under the incessant nagging of theteamsters' whips and their volleyed blasphemy.
The Deacon's merciful heart had been moved by the sufferings of thepoor beasts. He had done all that he could on the journey to lighten thelabor of those attached to his own wagon. He had restrained as muchas possible the St. Vitus Dance of the teamster's keen whip, uselesslyremonstrated with him against his profanity, carried a rail to help prythe wheels out of the mudholes, and got behind and pushed going upthe steep hills. At the journey's end when the exhausted brutes stoodmotionless, with their ears drooping and their eyes looking unutterabledisgust at everything connected with the army and war, the Deacon helpedthe teamster take their harness off, and carry them as much corn and hayas the Forage-Master could be pursuaded to dole out to them.
The Deacon's next solicitude was to get the boys aboard a train thatwould start out soon. This was a sore perplexity. All was rush andbustle about the railroad yard. Trains were coming, being switchedhither and yon, unloaded, and reloaded, and going, in a way that wassimply bewildering to the plain farmer. Men in uniform and men in plainclothes were giving orders, and these were obeyed, and everybody seemedtoo busy to answer questions or give information.
"Naw; git out. Don't bother me with no questions, I tell you,"impatiently said a man in citizen's clothes, who with arms outspreadwas signalling the switching engines. "'Tain't my business to giveinformation to people. Got all I kin do to furnish brains for thembull-headed engineers. Go to that Quartermaster you see over there inuniform. The Government pays him for knowin' things. It don't me."
"I don't know anything about the different cars, my friend," said theQuartermaster haughtily. "That's the business of the railroad people. Isimply order them to make up the trains for me, and they do the rest.There's a Yard-Master over there. Go ask him."
"Blazes and brimstone," exploded the Yard-Master; "how in the devil'sname do you suppose I can tell anything about the trains going out? I'mjust pestered to death by such fool questions, while the life's beingworried out of me by these snoozers with sardine-labels on theirshoulders, who strut around and give orders, and don't know enough aboutrailroading to tell a baggage-check from a danger-signal. If they'd onlylet me alone I'd have all these trains running in and out like shuttlesin a loom. But as soon's I get one arranged down comes a shoulderstrapand orders something different. Go off and ask somebody that wears brassbuttons and a basswood head. Don't bother me. Get out of the way of thatengine there."
In despair, the Deacon turned to a man who wore a Major'sshoulder-straps.
"No," he answered; "I'm sorry to say that I cannot give you anyinformation. I'm only in command of the guards here. I haven't anythingto do with the trains. The Quartermasters run them, and they run them asthey run everything they have anything to do with--like the old man andwoman run their fulling mill on the Kankakee--that is, like--
"Dumb this mixin' o' military and civilian," said the irritatedDeacon, "It's worse'n mixin' religion and politics, and preachin'and tavern-keepin'. Down there in camp everything was straight andsystematic. Every feller what don't have nothin' in his shoulder-strapsbosses all the fellers what hain't no shoulder-straps at all. The fellerwhat has one bar in his shoulder-straps bosses all the fellers whathain't nothin in theirs, and the feller what has two bars bosses thefellers with but one; the feller with leaves gives orders to the fellerswith bars; the feller with an eagle lays clear over him, and the manwith a star jest makes everybody jump when he talks. Out at the depoton Bean Blossom Crick Sol Pringle has the say about everything. He knowswhen the trains come and when they go, and what goes into 'em. Thisseems to be a betwixt and between place, neither pork nor bacon, Idon't like it at all, I always want things straight--either one thingor t'other--reg'ler close communion, total-immersion Babtist, orfree-for-all, shoutin' Methodist."
"I think I can help you, 'Squire," said a big, goodnatured-lookingcivilian railroad man, who had become interested in the Deacon'stroubles. "I've bin around with the Assistant Yard-Boss pickin' out alot o' empties to hustle back to Nashville for grub. That's one o' themover there, on the furthest switch--X634. See? It's got a chalk mark onit. I'll help you carry your boys into it, and fix 'em comfortable, andyou'll go back with it all right."
The Deacon turned gladly to him. The man summoned some of his friends,who speedily transferred Si and Shorty, with their belongings, cedarboughs and all, to the car, and made them as comfortable as possible,and added some little offerings of their own to contribute to the easeof the journey. They bestired themselves to find something to eat thatthe boys would relish, and brought out from somewhere a can of peachesand one of tomatoes, which proved very acceptable. The Deacon wasoverwhelmed with gratitude.
"I want every one of you to come up to my house, whenever you git achance," he said, "and make a long visit. You shall have the very bestthat there is on my farm, and if you don't live well it won't be MariaKlegg's fault. She'll jest lay herself out to be good to men who's bingood to her son, and when she lays herself out to git up a dinner theBurnett House in Cincinnati takes a back seat."
Feeling entirely at ease, he climbed into the car, with a copy of theCincinnati Gazette, which he had bought of a newsboy, lighted his pipe,put on his spectacles, and settled down to a labored, but thoroughperusal of the paper, beginning at the head-lines on the upperleft-hand corner, and taking in every word, advertisements and all, assystematically as he would weed a garden-bed or milk a cow. The Deaconnever did anything slip-shod, especially when he had to pay 10 cents fora copy of the Cincinnati Gazette. He was going to get his full money'sworth, and if it was not in the news and editorials, he would take itout of the advertisements and patent medicine testimonials. He wasjust going through a convincing testimonial to the manifold virtues ofSpalding's Prepared Glue, when there was a bump, the sound of coupling,and his car began to move off.
"Glory, we're goin' home!" shouted the Deacon, waving his paperexultingly to the railroad men who had been so helpful. But he exultedprematurely. The engine rattled ahead sharply for a few hundred yards,and then began backing to opposite the spot where it had started from.
"That's all right," said his railroads friends encouragingly. "She'sjust run back on the other switch to take up a couple more cars. She'llgo ahead all right presently."
"I hope it is all right," said the Deacon, a little abashed; "but Inever had any use for a hoss that went back more'n he did forrard."
But this was only the first of many similar experiences, which occupiedthe rest of the day.
"Good gracious, do they want to wear the track and wheels and injinesclean out?" grumbled the Deacon. "No wonder they're all out o' order. IfI jammed my wagon back and forrard this way it wouldn't last a month.No wonder war-taxes are high, with everybody doin' all they kin to wasteand destroy property. I've a great mind to write to Gen. Rosecrans orPresident Lincoln callin' attention to the way their hired men monkeyaround, and waste time, and don't accomplish nothin'."
Some time after dark, and after the Deacon's patience had becomewell-nigh exhausted, the railroad men came around with a lantern, andtold him that at last it was settled, and the train would move out verysoon. There had been conflicting orders during the day, but now theChief Quartermaster at Nashville had ordered the train forward. Sureenough, the train pulled out presently, and went rattling up towardShelbyville. Again the Deacon's heart bounded high, and after watchingthe phantom-like roadside for awhile, he grew very sleepy, and crawledin alongside of Si. He waked up at daylight, and went at once to thecar-door hopefully expecting to recognize the outskirts of Nashville, orat least Murfreesboro. To his dismay, he saw the same sutler's shanty,mule-corral, pile of baled-hay, and the embalmer's sign on a tree whichhad been opposite them
while standing on the track at Bridgeport.
Shorty swore volubly, and for once the Deacon did not check him, but wassinfully conscious in his heart of approving the profanity.
"Swearin's awful wicked and low," he said to himself. "A sensibleman can get along without it ordinarily, by the grace o' God and hardtryin', though I've knowed a yoke o' dumbed steers in a stumpy fieldto purty nigh overcome me. But the army's no common experience, and Is'pose a man's justified in bustin' out in a time like this. Old Job waslucky that he didn't have to ride on an army railroad."
IN DESPAIR, THE DEACON TURNED TO A MAJOR. 77]
His railroad friend again came up with some hot coffee and broiled meat,and explained that after the train had reached a station some miles outit got orders to run back and clear the track for some trains of troopsfrom the Army of the Potomac which were being rushed through. TheDeacon's heart almost sank in despair, but he took the coffee and meat,and helped the boys to it. As they were all eating they heard a voiceoutside which struck on the chords of their memories:
"Where is that Yard-Boss? Where is that Yard-Boss? Find him and send himto me, immediately."
"That sounds like Levi Rosenbaum," said Shorty.
Si nodded affirmatively.
The Deacon looked out,' and recognized Levi dressed in the hight offashion. On his jetty curls sat a glossy silk hat, his clothes looked asif just taken from the tailor's shop, and they fitted him to perfection.A large diamond flashed from his scarfpin, and another gleamed in a ringon his right hand as he waved it in giving orders to the men around.Every eye was fixed on him, and when he spoke there was hastening toobey. The Yard-Boss was coming at a run.
"Why are those cotton-cars still standing there this morning, afterthe orders I gave you yesterday?" asked Levi, in tones of severestreprehension, as that official came up.
"Why, Mr. Rosenbaum," said that official apologetically--he was the sameman who had so severely snubbed the Deacon the day before--"you see Ihad the train made up and all ready to start, when there came orders--"
"Whose orders?" demanded Levi. "Who dares give orders that over-ridemine? You go at once and have an engine--the best one you have--hitchedon. Couple on my car, and be ready to start in 15 minutes. Fifteenminutes I give you," continued he, looking at his watch. "Tell theTrain Dispatcher to clear everything into switches until we get toMurfreesboro, and have the operator at Murfreesboro lay by everythingtill we get to Nashville."
The Yard-Boss rushed off to execute the order.
"Great Jehosephat, what's come over Levi?" muttered Shorty. "Has hebecome the High-muk-a-muk of the whole army? Have they put him in Gen.Rosecrans's place?"
"Will I dare to speak to such a high-flyer?" said the Deacon,doubtfully.
Levi's eyes, flashed from one point to another, rested on the Deacon fora moment, and the latter wreathed his face with a grin of recognition.Then Levi's stern countenance relaxed with a still broader grin.
"Hello, 'Squire," he shouted joyously. "Is that you? Where are theboys?" And he rushed forward with outstretched hand.
"I've got 'em in here, badly hurt," answered the Deacon, jumping to theground and grasping the outstretched hand in his own horny palm. "I'mvery glad to see you, Mr. Rosenbaum."
"Glad ain't no name for it," said Levi. "Did you say you'd got the boysin there? Here, you men, bring me two or three of those cracker-boxes."
By the aid of the cracker-boxes Levi climbed into the car, and shook theboys' hands, and cried and talked mingled gladness and sympathy in hisbroken English.
"What place have you got, and what are you doin' down here, Mr.Rosenbaum," the Deacon asked in the first lull.
"O, I'm Special Agent of the Treasury in charge of the cotton business.You see, these rascals have been stealing the Treasury blind, in cotton,and they had to have an honest man down here, who was up to all theirtricks, and wouldn't stand no nonsense. They sent me, and gave me orderswhich make me boss of the whole outfit. None of them outrank me aboutthese trains."
"So I see," said the Deacon. "Wisht I'd had a handful of your authorityyesterday."
"Here, we're wasting time," said Levi suddenly. "You're tryin' to getthese boys back home. I'll see that they get as far as the Ohio Riveras fast as the train'll go. Here, six or eight of you men pick up theseboys and carry them over to my car there. Handle them as if they wereeggs, for they're my friends."
There was no lack of willing hands to execute this order. That waslong before the days of private cars, even for railway magnates, butRosenbaum had impressed a caboose for himself, which he had had fittedup with as many of the comforts of a home as were available at that eraof car-building. He had a good bed with a spring mattress forhimself and another for his friends, table, chairs, washroom and afairly-equipped kitchen, stored with provisions, for he was as fond ofgood living as of sumptuous raiment. All this and more he was only tooglad to place at the disposal of the Deacon and the boys. The Deaconhimself was not more solicitous about their comfort.
The train started as Levi had ordered, and sped along on a clear trackto Nashville. Cotton was needed at the North almost as much as rationswere needed at the front, and a train loaded with Treasury cotton hadsuperior rights to the track which must not be disregarded. At Nashvillea friend of Levi's, a Surgeon of generally recognized skill, and whomLevi had telegraphed for, came aboard with a couple of skilled nurses,who bathed the boys, dressed their wounds, and replaced their soiled,torn clothes with new, clean ones, including fine, soft underwear fromLevi's own wardrobe.
"Say, Doc," said Shorty, after this was finished and he had devoured asupper cooked under Levi's special care, "I feel so much better that Idon't believe there's any need o' my goin on any further. I'll jest layby here, and go into Convalescent Camp for a few days, and then go backto the front with a squad, and help clean up our cracker line. I'dlike awfully well to have a hand in runnin' them rebels offen LookoutMountain. They've bin too infernally impudent and sassy for any earthlyuse."
"Indeed you won't," said the Surgeon decisively. "You'll go straighthome, and stay there until you are well. You won't be fit for duty forat least a month yet, if then. If you went out into camp now you wouldhave a relapse, and be dead inside of a week. The country between hereand Chattanooga is dotted with the graves of men who have been sent backto the front too soon."
The journey to Louisville was delightful. At Louisville Levi tried hardto get his caboose taken across the river and attached to a train on theother side, so that the boys could go clear home in it. But a SpecialTreasury Agent had but little of the importance north of the Ohio Riverthat he had south of it. Still, Levi managed to get the crew of anaccommodation train interested in the boys, whom he had driven acrossthe river on a light wagon, lying on his spring mattress. They wereplaced in a comfortable caboose, and soon were speeding on the laststretch of the journey.
The day was bright and sunny, and the boys were propped up, so thatthey could look out of the windows and enjoy the scenery. That theywere nearing home made Si nervous and fidgety. It seemed to him thatthe train only crawled, and stopped interminably at every station andcrossing. The Deacon became alarmed lest this should unfavorably affecthim, and resorted to various devices to divert his mind. He bought aCincinnati Gazette, and began reading it aloud. Si was deeply interestedin all the war news, particularly that relating to the situationat Chattanooga, but he would not listen to the merits of Spalding'sPrepared Glue.
The day wore away towards evening.
"Ain't we most there, Pap?" Si asked querulously.
"About 25 mile away, I think," answered his father. "I disremember justhow fur that last stop is from the Crick, but I think it's betwixt 25and 30 mile."
Just then the whistle blew for a stop.
"What'n the world are they stoppin' here for?" groaned Si. "Some woman'sgot a dozen aigs or a pound o' butter that she wants to send to town. Is'pose we'll stop here until she finishes churnin', or gits another aigto make up a dozen. I never did see sich putterin' alo
ng."
The Deacon was deeply absorbed in an editorial on "President Lincoln'sduty in this Crisis," and paid no attention. Shorty craned his long neckout of the window.
"Some gal's stopped the train to git on," he reported to Si. "She'sapparently been payin' a visit to a house up there a little ways, andthey've brung her down in a buggy with her trunk. She's dressed up fitto kill, and she's purtier than a peach-blossom. Jehosephat, Si, Ibelieve she's the very same gal that you was castin' sheep's eyes at whenyou was home. Yes, it is."
"Annabel?" gasped Si.
"What's that?" said the Deacon, rousing to interest, but carefullyputting his thumb down to mark the place where he left off.
"Shorty thinks Annabel is out there gittin' on the train."
"Eh," said the Deacon, shoving up his spectacles and taking a good look."It certainly is. She's been down here to see the Robinses, who live outhere somewhere. I'll jest go out and bring her in here."